Pretty much by accident a friend and I ended up at the last rehearsal for the Thompson Shelterhouse production of Chapatti now at Cincinnati’s Playhouse.
There was a reception beforehand of which we partook a bit, and then got to pick our seats in the small theater. We chose the second row – I’m not one for having my feet tripped over by sitting in the front row there. Distracting.
This play is labeled ‘off-beat, love story, drawn together by their shared love of animals, Irish play’ in the promos I’ve heard on WVXU. So I was expecting something a bit sappy, very pleasant, no thinking required.
Be warned – that is not this play.
This is a ‘wrestle all these issues to the ground’ kind of play, with 2 old people and a waiter. It is Irish. It is also about suicide, about failed love, loneliness, pain, trust, a fair amount of grumpiness – and, oh, yes – cats (a lot of them) and dogs (one, named Chapatti, called Chap). With profanity, done with an Irish brogue.
One high point for me – the senior citizen woman in the play, who has clearly put up with a lot of crap in her lifetime, learns to stand up for herself. And gets what she wants because she learned that.
It was all good – a much better play than I expected from those promos. You’ve got lots of time to see it.